


Detention and Thieves

by SwampySweetSketch



Series: The SC Modern AU/Reboot [1]
Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, And Sly is Pan, Angst, Bullying, Childhood Trauma, Death, M/M, Modern au/reboot, More tags to be added, Multi, Murder, Murray is G A Y, Other, Trans!Bentley, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwampySweetSketch/pseuds/SwampySweetSketch
Summary: When it came to living in the small town of Fausse perte, three different children are shoved into detention after an awful day full of mistakes.The traumatized orphan wants to sneak out.The abused softie hopes to stay in detention forever.The neglected prodigy is glad to be away from their boyfriend.An alternate take to Thievius Raccoonus-Highschool Prologue-





	Detention and Thieves

It started on the bluest night he's ever seen.

Things at home were quiet, the old gramophone his father had propped in the living room had already ended its one-track viynl and gave a white noise that Sly preferred as the nightly atmosphere outside was most echoed when he pressed his folded ear against the chilly window pane.

It was late, as dots trailed across the somber blue sky and the young raccoon couldn't keep his eyes off the beautiful tint that blessed him this very night.

Oh yes.

He turned slowly to the dark room he stood in, watching the flickering candles on his birthday cake slowly melt over the messy white frosting that was quickly thrown over the vanilla baked good.

It was his birthday. He was eight. But he felt younger. He wished he was younger.

He turned back to the window and pressed against the window, feeling the chill to get some sense of normality back in the young's head. But all it did was later draw his cold forehead back, too cold for his thin fur.  
Tonight was important, not only because he was another year older. 

"Sly." He stepped away from his somber retreat and looked to the right of the dining hall, spying the tall shadow of his father at the entryway. "Don't you want to eat your cake?"

"Uh... Nah I'm fine. But I do wanna stay up!" Sly hurried to his father, tugging at the end of Conner Cooper's robe. "Can you tell me how you met mom again?"  
Conner perked at the mentioned of- but then he deflated. Giving Sly a look that the young one understood too well.

"I don't think I coul-"  
"Pleeeaseee?" Sly pouted, staring up at Conner with weak puppy dog eyes.  
The blue furred raccoon could've groaned at his son's request, but spying upon the candles melting over the messy cake had him swallow what little resistance he had.

"As long as you don't run all over the house tonight. I'll tell you about how your mother and I met."  
Sly whooped and hollered, slipping past Conner with the small room between his leg and the doorway.

The gramophone was still emitting white noise as Sly raced to the other side of the living room and hopped up on his father's ruby red recliner. Scooting up to sit on an arm while his father ambled towards a small painting.  
Underneath the painting, a small safe. Inside was a book. Sly stared intently at the old bind that his father held. Conner joined his son, flipping the crinkly pages as they progressed from old and dusty to a yellowed crisp. He stopped on one, a passage of time more than an entry of skill.  
"So, it was a Fall night. A heist ended with Interpol again without leads-"  
"Except for the calling card!"  
"That's right, all that was left of a priceless pearl collection was the calling card used by your mother, and her parents and grandparents before her."

The chill was growing stronger as shadows crawled along the ivy walls...

Conner looked over to Sly, seeing how the silver tinted raccoon never looked from the pages. He smiled and fixed his pipe under his molars as the page turned.

"Your mother was Sylvia Cooper. The most beautiful thief of France, and my long life rival."

Somehow the sky seemed to dim when the Earth grew colder. When a strong eerie wind pushed heavy feet towards the front door...

"And to prove my family name, I had nabbed the largest diamond in the country. But Sylvia was furious, not because I stole the gem. But because-"  
"You weren't honorable. You just took the diamond."  
"That's right. Your mom was impressed with the quick heist, but never with my 'quirky' habits to snatch things on a regular basis."  
"Dad?"  
"Yes Sly?"

The young raccoon reached out to the book, feeling years of experience seep through his fingers.

"Will I ever have this? Like mom did?"

Why does everything feel so cold?

Conner chuckled, plucking his hat off. "I do believe you may. But not now."  
"When?"  
"When you're ol-"

 

SLAM

 

Conner froze. A wave of panic gaining his full attention towards the long hallway. Down that dark walkway was the front entrance. The entrance...

Where visitors have come.

 

SLAM

 

Sly was the same, frightened with the loud banging on the door but unaware as to who was behind it. 

"D-Dad?" He gazed upon his father, the blue raccoon raising up from the recliner and picking Sly up. "Dad? What's going on?"

His father walked to the living room closet, and let Sly down but quickly ushered the boy in.

"Stay inside Sly." Conner breathed. "Stay inside and do not leave."

"Dad!?" 

 

SLAM!

 

Conner rushed back to the recliner, clutching the book to his chest. Back in the safe, put the painting back up. Grab your cane.

Breathe Cooper. Breathe.

The door was flung off its hinges as Conner spied on five pairs of eyes. Each with their own flare of malicious intent.

They moved too fast.

He wanted to scream. God, he wanted to SCREAM. He couldn't watch, but he did.

He did and he felt so sick.

"Cooper. Where is it. Where is it. Where IS IT. WHERE IS IT."

Where where where where-

Sly was staring on as the room was upturned, the wall torn by claws, gunshot holes riddling the couch cushions, fire singeing the carpet-

Two glowing eyes.

Staring right at him as everything grew quiet.

"He has it."

Sly backed away from the door, terror wracking his whole body.

"Get the boy."  
"No-!"

A deafening snap. Everything was quiet. But then too loud.

The door swung open and Sly saw the torn room and its inhabitants. But all his young mind could manifest was tall beasts, shadows with dull eyes. Except for the one.

The Owl.

"Where is the book child."  
"B-Book?" Sly's back was against the wall as the Owl stepped forth.  
"I want the book."  
"Wh-why?"

The bird was the only one he could clearly identify, for its golden glare reflected off his silver feathers. It got closer, and Sly wished he could melt into the wall.

"The book is important. I need it." The Owl barely moved as their cohorts chortled and loomed about the living room.

"Bu-but it's Mama's..."  
"Sylvia." 

Sly suddenly felt everything melt away. Fear, shock, panic. All gone as he left the wall. 

"You know my mom."  
"Of course I knew her. I knew her. And Bianca. And Marzie. And Tony. And M..."  
"And Conner."

" 'Ey Clocks! We got somethin' over here!" A bulky shadow pushed aside the family painting from the safe hidden, snapping the string keeping the painting on and letting its sweeping claws crush it while they began tinkering with the dial.

"Break it open."

"W-wait! You can't-!" Sly didn't' listen. He should've, and now he was being picked off the ground by another beast that reeked of smoke. "That's Mama's book! You can't take it!"

"We can and we will lil' crook!" A largemouth beast bellowed.

"Please, you can't!" Sly reached towards the Owl in a desperate attempt. But off the ground he was powerless. Tossed back inside the closet before it slammed shut, leaving him in complete darkness.  
Metal screeching reached his ears, Sly beginning to feel everything rush back as the situation grew heavy in his mind.

His mother was dead.  
His father.  
The book is being taken-

Rip

No-

Riiippp!

No!

RRRIIIPPPP

"NOOOOOOOO!!!"

He got back up and raced to the door, wrenching the knob as it slid but never turned. Sobbing, screaming as the pages of his family, from his mother, be torn from their ancient bind.  
"STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!!!" He screamed as everything was quiet again, too quiet as he pushed the door with all his weight.

On the floor. Everything ruined.  
Sly last saw his father with a tattered book cover thrown over his cold face.

 

And he saw it again.

 

Again and again, the fleeting image of a loved one as the blaring alarm clock awoke him.

Oh, joy.

The first few moments awake was weird as he fumbled from his stale smelling sheets.  
In a few minutes, he'll hear the scratchy yells of Ms. Puffin. Maybe Scary John will smack his mop against his door.  
But that was only an old routine to him.

He only got up to switch his wrinkly shirt and boxers with the stupid school uniform he was obligated to wear for his 12th year.  
And out into the old, rickety hallway that only housed him and a few staff members. He didn't even look for any others to leave the several other rooms in the seemingly neverending hallway, they were vacant for years now. 

 

Sly Cooper was certain he was the last child in Happer Camper Orphanage.

**Author's Note:**

> The traumatized orphan.


End file.
